Aníron
by Timeless
Summary: Alantië, an elf with a troubled past, joins the Fellowship disguised as a boy. Yes, I know it's been done before, but so what, I'm doing it again! Legolas/OC fic. Thanks v. much for all the reviews! Keep reading!
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: All character, places etc. mentioned throughout this fanfic from the book/film belong to Tolkein Enterprises/New Line Cinema, and they are used without their creators' knowledge or permission. Alantië and (to a certain extent) the plot, however, are mine. Feel free to use them should you want to (can't see why you would, but hey!), but please ask for permission first (my email address is evenstar_of_middlleearth@yahoo.co.uk, or you can ask in a review).  
  
Author's Note: I'm having great fun writing this! However, my approach to writing chapters is somewhat erratic! Basically, I've got the storyline planned out, but write the chapters in whatever order takes my fancy. For that reason, I might post no chapters for ages and then post loads in one go, but keep checking for updates. You might have read my fic 'In the Arms of Another' which will take place somewhere in this fanfic once I've written the chapters before it. You could read (and review!) it if you want to, but I just posted it because I wanted to see how people reacted (thanks for the great reviews, by the way!). So, on with the story.  
  
Aníron  
  
by Timeless  
  
Prologue  
  
Years ago, an Elven patrol had found Alantië in the forests of Lothlórien, unconcious and half dead, her clothes torn and bloodied and her face and arms scratched and bleeding. She had been nursed back to physical health in Lórien's healing houses, but was incredibly shy and wary. Any time anyone spoke to her, she would not reply, but merely nod or shake her head, depending on the situation. If anyone ever touched her, she would flinch, and a shadow of fear would cross her beautiful aqua eyes.  
  
Gradually she became less shy, and one day the Lady Galadriel questioned her about why she had come to the Golden Wood. This time, she did not reply with gestures, but with words, and told the Lady her story. A terrible story it was, and Galadriel did not breath a word of it to another soul, but trained the young Elf in the arts of enchantment. Although previously inexperienced, Alantië learnt quickly, and soon mastered the basic skills, and some of the more advanced ones. She began to converse with the other Elves of Lórien, all who had been forbidden by the Lady to ask of her history, and she soon, to observers at least, acted like any normal Elf maiden, save that she would not allow any man to touch her. But a shadow still hung over her heart, and only she and Galadriel knew the fearful truth of it.  
  
Will we find out Alantië's secret in the next chapter? Of course not! There's quite alot to go before she reveals it, so bookmark this story and keep checking! 


	2. Lothlórien

Aniron  
  
by Timeless  
  
Chapter One: Lothlórien  
  
Alantië looked up from her weaving to see the Lady Galadriel enter the room. There were similarities between the two: both had the long golden hair of most elves, both carried themselves with the grace born of their people and they were both beautiful, but while Galadriel's beauty was like that of the moon, cold and untouchable, Alantië's was the beauty of a new dawn and of sunlight glittering of the waters of a babbling stream. Alantië watched the Lady glide across the floor to where Alantië was sitting beside her loom. Galadriel examined the work.  
  
"That is a fine piece of craftelveship Alantië," she said. "You have much improved since you first touched a loom."  
  
Alantië laughed. "My Lady, I would be hard pressed to do worse! My work is still but a sapling to the mallorn tree of the fine weavings of the other ladies in Lórien!"  
  
Galadriel smiled. Alantië was one of the few Elves in Lórien who spoke to her with anything other than awed reverence. "Aye, a sapling, but ever growing and blossoming. But I did not come here only to compliment your work, Alantië," she said, and her voice became more serious. "My scouts have spotted the Company of which I have formerly spoken."  
  
A brief flicker of apprehension crossed Alantië's eyes for a moment. She drew a deep breath. "Then it is time?"  
  
"It is." The Lady kept her voice grave. "If you are ready, your garments hang in your closet. But, Alantië -" she said, " - if you do not wish to partake upon this quest, I shall hold you blameless, and only the coldest of men and Elves would find it in their hearts to scorn you."  
  
"Only those men and Elves - and myself," said Alantië. She drew a deep breath, and Galadriel knew that it was costing her every ounce of bravery she possessed to say her next words. "I am ready."  
  
The Lady of the Golden Wood bent, and placed a kiss upon her student's brow. "You will find your courage.  
  
~*~  
  
When the Lady had left, Alantië sank onto her bed. She had been preparing for this moment for days, but now it had come, and she was afraid. She remembered the day when Galadriel had first revealed the plan to her. It had seemed so simple then. The plan was perfect - Alantië would join the Grey Company disguised as a boy, under the name of Alandur. She would travel with them and use the skills that Galadriel had taught her to aid them. What would happen, neither she nor the Lady knew. Now her task was about to become reality, it seemed enormous, and impossible. And not only was there the immense task to perform, she must also overcome her fears of the past.  
  
A sudden wave of self-disgust hit her. She had promised Galadriel, and Galadriel had given her new life when she had come to Lórien. The least, indeed the only thing she could do to repay her kindness was to embark upon this quest, and devote herself to its fulfilling.  
  
Resolved, Alantië walked over to her closet and opened the door. There was her outfit, or rather Alandur's outfit. It consisted of hardy dark brown trousers and a tunic of the same material, this time in dark grey, that reached to just above her knees, and was to be tied by a leather cord. In addition to these, her boots and a cloak of dark green Lórien silk, was a bodice designed to bind her chest and disguise her femininity. It was bound with a cord of silver Lórien silk, and Galadriel had spoken words of power over it, so that none, save Alantië and her true love, could untie it. For there are few pieces of Elven magic that cannot be broken by the power of love. The rest of Alantië's clothes were designed loosely, also to disguise her feminine shape, and there were also gloves to hide her delicate hands.  
  
Alantië donned her outfit, to accustom herself to the feel of it. The rough cloth felt odd against her inner legs, for she was used to dresses. She was loath to cut her long golden tresses, and so bound them into a tight braid that fell behind her back. She put her hood up and examined herself critically in the full length mirror that hung on her wall. If anyone knew she was female, she would be quite easily recognisable, but Galadriel had ensured that none save herself and Celeborn knew of the plan. The rest of the forest believed that Alantië had left a few days ago to visit Mirkwood. Since then she had stayed in her room, and the Lord and Lady of Lothlórien had personally brought her food.  
  
Just then, a knock came at the door. Alantië opened it, and there stood the Lady Galadriel. She regarded Alantië before speaking.  
  
"Well, the disguise will certainly be effective to those who do not know of your true identity." She walked into the room, and Alantië shut the door. She spoke, trying to imitate a man's deep voice. "But will it be convincing enough to fool the Fellowship? Mithrandir is one of the Wise, and Aragorn is the Heir of Isildur. There is also an Elf in the Company - will they not see through my disguise?"  
  
"They may." And now Galadriel's voice became more solemn. "But I fear some great evil may have happened to Mithrandir."  
  
Alantië gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. "My Lady, surely not!"  
  
"My heart greatly yearns that I am mistaken, but alas! my mirror rarely deceives me."  
  
She forced a smile. "Now I suggest you work on your voice. You must not speak in your natural way lest you reveal yourself before it is time, so you must make men's speech as your own, and not relapse when startled."  
  
Alantië nodded.  
  
"I perceive that the Company will arrive around dawn tomorrow. Either I or my Lord will fetch you when the time has come. Until then, as always, remain in this room."  
  
Alantië bowed. When she looked up, the Lady was gone.  
  
~*~  
  
The following morning, Alantië awoke and dressed in her travelling clothes. Her heart was beating faster than normal, with fear not only at the quest that was to come, full of unpredictable danger, but also at the prospect of venturing into the outside world again. She had not set foot outside Lothlórien since . . . /it/ had happened. What if it happened again? But the men of the Fellowship were brave and honourable, she reminded herself, and unlikely to do such a thing as she feared they might.  
  
For the next few hours, she practised speaking like a man, until a knock came at the door. When she opened it, there stood Celeborn, the Lord of Lothlórien. He was no taller than his wife, and his hair was almost as long as hers, but both it and his beard were the pale silver of mithril. He stared at her for a moment before recognising her. "Ah, Alantië. That certainly is an effective disguise  
  
Alantië bowed. "Thank you, my Lord," she replied in her male voice.  
  
"The Fellowship have arrived, and my Lady and I are preparing to meet with them. It pleases us that you should make your way to the foot of the Great Tree of Cerin Amroth, so it will seem that you are among the other Elf Lords dwelling here."  
  
"It shall be as my Lord pleases." Alantië had always been more reverential to Celeborn than Galadriel, for she was still uneasy in the presence of men of power.  
  
The Lord of the Golden Wood left, and Alantië prepared herself. No weapon had been given to her, but she trusted that the Lady would provide in her own way. Secretly, Alantië was glad that she would not have to handle a weapon, for although she was well-trained in the fighting arts, she was loath to kill more than was absolutely necessary. She felt better suited to the life of a healer, being well trained by Galadriel and her assistants in herblore, and magic. Of course, these skills could be used to destroy life as well as preserve it, but Alantië had vowed to herself that she would never kill again unless there was no other option. She shuddered as she remembered the last man she had killed. That had been after . . . the event. Involuntarily, she found herself recalling the vision of the man, his head lolling to the side, his clothes soaked with blood, both his own, and hers, her knife in his stomach and his eyes wide open and glazed over in the paralysis of death . . .  
  
Alantië banished the thought from her mind, and headed towards Cerin Amroth, the great wooded hill in the centre of Lothlórien. She followed a little-used route, to avoid being seen by others, who would no-doubt wonder about the sight of a strange man walking purposefully towards Cerin Amroth, his hood pulled over his face to hide his countenance. 


	3. Preparations

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing exept the plot and AlantiÃ«. The rest belong to Tolkein Enterprises/New Line Cinema. In future, I will only include disclaimers if I introduce a new character, but these last chapters have had disclaimers in them, so don't sue!  
  
Author's note: The main author's note is at the end, but I'm just doing some shameless self-promotion. Please please go to http://fanfiction.net/profile.php?userid=168050 (my author profile-site on ff.net) and read and review my work! Also, could someone tell me what a Mary-Sue is? I keep coming across the term in fanfics, but, ignorant as I am, I don't know what it means! Help!  
  
  
  
AnÃ­ron  
  
by Timeless  
  
Preperations  
  
"But where is Gandalf the Grey? For I much desire to speak with him. I know that he departed from Imladris with the Fellowship, but he stands not in LÃ³rien with you now, and I perceive great sadness in your hearts concerning him. But I cannot see him - he surrounded by mist, and I cannot reach him."  
  
At the words of the Lady Galadriel, there was not one of the Fellowship that did not bow their head. Finally, Aragorn spoke.  
  
"He has fallen into shadow."  
  
AlantiÃ« almost forgot her guise as a man, but remembered herself in time to stop her hand going to her mouth. She had met Gandalf only once before, while she was staying in Rivendell, but he was such a powerful entity, wise, imposing and calming at the same time. She had also heard many tales concerning him, and they only served to increase her awe and respect for him.  
  
A ripple ran through the hall as all but the Lady drew a breath, or bowed their heads. "This is grave news." The Lady's face had not changed, but her voice was more solomn. "Action must be taken, but first I must hear this dread tale."  
  
The tale was told, mainly by Aragorn, who was the only member of the Fellowship that was able to meet the Lady Galadriel's terrible eyes. When he had finished, AlantiÃ« saw that not one person standing there had failed to shed a tear, saw again the Lady. "My heart mourns his loss, and my mind tells me that you will now be vunerable. There is a way to overcome it, however. Aragorn, I would speak with you. The rest of you - you have travelled far, and must be weary. My elves have prepared sleeping quaters for you, where you can rest or sleep in peace, for no evil can enter the fair woods of LothlÃ³rien."  
  
The Fellowship bowed and left, as did the Elves. Galadriel motioned to AlantiÃ« to stay however, and she did, feeling Aragorn's hard grey eyes on her.  
  
When the others were out of hearing, Galadriel spoke. "Aragorn, I know that you, like the others of the Grey Company, need your rest, so I will keep this short and to the point." Aragorn nodded, and Galadriel came. "Apart from the obvious direct loss of Mithrandir's personal power, I am sure you have noticed that the Fellowship's protection has considerabely decreased."  
  
Aragorn nodded again. "I have. Gandalf's magic was not the only thing protecting us, but I could not perceive what our additional protection was."  
  
"It was one of the oldest magics in this world, and it is to do with numbers. Nine." And now her voice became more sonorous. "The number of the Nazgul, the number of three Elven Rings timesed by itself, and the number, until recently, of the Grey Company. It is a number of protection and magic, and it is essential that the Fellowship make up that number, at least for as long as possible."  
  
AlantiÃ« was puzzled, but she kept her face a mask, in case Aragorn saw it. He was as nonplussed as her it seemed, for his next words were "But my Lady, I am afraid I don't understand. Why nine? I understand us having to make up the number of the Nazgul, but we could hardly beat them in combat."  
  
The Lady paused, as if considering how to phrase her thoughts, before answering. "Son of Arathorn, you know that the greater the number of people, the greater their strength?"  
  
"Of course."  
  
"Well it is not only their amassed strength. Numbers have power, and when that number is nine, the individual protections that each person provides is reflected and magnified in such a way that a great bond grows between the people. Did you not wonder that Elrond allowed so many near defenceless Halflings to travel as part of the Fellowship. He too knew of the power of nine. Do you understand?"  
  
Aragorn nodded.  
  
"So it is important, nay, /essential/, that nine is the number that the Grey Company amass. With the demise of Mithrandir, you only number eight, and I fear that Sauron will find a way to infiltrate the hearts and minds of the Fellowship."  
  
"But Lady," said Aragorn, "how can we find another member of the Fellowship at such short notice? We can take only those we trust absolutely."  
  
"And that is why Alandur here will accompany you." The Lady beckoned to AlantiÃ«, and she stepped forward, and bowed trying not to let her apprehension show. Aragorn was a powerful man, and was gifted with a certain amount of fore- and mind-sight. Would he guess her secret?  
  
When she straightened up, Aragorn was staring keenly at her. "What are your skills, Master Elf?" he asked.  
  
"I am a fair archer and swordsman," she replied honestly in her man's voice, "and I am trained in herb- and crystal-lore, and can wield a certain amount of magical power." In response to his questioning raised eyebrows, she said, "I can draw on the power of living things to weave spells of protection, concealment and bewitchment, in addition to a few other minor talents."  
  
"Aragorn?" said Galadriel.  
  
After considering AlantiÃ« for a moment, Aragorn nodded. "Very well. But may I not see who will join us?"  
  
Without a moments hesitation that might betray herself, AlantiÃ« removed her hood, and looked Aragorn straight in the eyes. No woman would have done so, and it took every ounce of AlantiÃ«'s will power to continue staring into his hard, grey eyes. They contained a small amount of grief and concern - for what? - but ultimately power and control. She wrapped herself in confidence, knowing that Aragorn would be searching for any magical concealment. Finally, he nodded again. "We will be honoured to have you with us, Alandur," he said. Then he bowed to Galadriel. "If you will excuse me, my Lady, I will retire, for we must leave at dawn, and I need my strength as much as the others." He knelt, kissed Galadriel's hand, rose, and left. When he was out of earshot, Galadriel turned to AlantiÃ«.  
  
"Well, my child, it is done. How do you feel?"  
  
"Better than I would have expected." It was true. Aragorn was plainly honourable, and even the dwarf seemed all right. The only one she was slightly uneasy about was Boromir. From rumours she had heard, and her own knowledge, he was Heir to the Stewardship of Gondor, and a powerful and honourable man. However, she was uneasy about men of Gondor ever since . . . well, since the incident. But she did not relay her fears to the Lady Galadriel.  
  
"AlantiÃ«, I know that you have no weapon, but are quite capable of bearing one. It is not absolutely necessary, since you can wield magic as effectively as a physical weapon, but it would seem strange to the Fellowship if you carried no weapon save your magic. Are you willing?"  
  
AlantiÃ« nodded. "A bow would be favourite, if it was possible, but I do not own one."  
  
The Lady of the Golden Wood spread her hands and a blue glow filled them. In a few moments, it cleared, and she held a bow of smooth, polished yew, and a quiver of ebony filled with grey-fletched arrows. She offered them to AlantiÃ«, who took them.  
  
"My Lady," she said, awed, "these are amazing . . ." She selected an arrow and sighted down the shaft. It was perfectly smooth and straight "I shall treasure them."  
  
"Each arrow has been carefully crafted by the Galadhrim of LÃ³rien, and you will have trouble loosing them. Also, when you return to your room, you will find several knives. They will be useful for close and medium- distsance combat, but I strongly advise you to keep their existence a closely-guarded secret, for an unexpected knife-thrust can be the turning- strike of a battle."  
  
"I will," said AlantiÃ«. "My Lady, if you have no objections I will retire. I will need my strength for the morrow."  
  
Galadriel nodded, and AlantiÃ« bowed as a man would, and left the Lady's presence.  
  
When she returned, it was as the Lady had said. Half a dozen knives lay on her desk. They had blades of shiny hard steel and were bound in thin strips of black leather. They were practical, and nothing fancy, but each had a large smooth gemstone in its pommel: blue topaz for peace, concentration and leadership and spiritual abilities, clear quartz for purity, healing and spiritual abilities, moonstone for friendship, peace, love, loyalty and long life, orange calcite for confidence, awareness and vitality, emerald for fore-sight, love and deep sleep and tiger's eyer for will-power, persistence, strength and self-confidence. AlantiÃ« smiled. All these abilities would be blessings on a quest such as the one on which she was about to embark.  
  
AlantiÃ« yawned, and she looked through the small window of her room to see the sliver of moon shining high in the sky. It was quite late, so she undressed and slipped between the sheets of her beds, knowing she would need to rise early in the morning to prepare for her journey.  
  
_*_  
  
The following morning, AlantiÃ« rose well before morning and dressed, tucking her knives into her sleeves and boots and the front and back of her tunic. She tied her hair back and examined herself critically in her mirror. Her disguise was certainly good now, and since male Elves were more feminine than their human counterparts, she ws unlikely to need to fake stubble, but nevertheless she tucked a small pot of blue-black khol powder into a small pouch at her waist. This also contained her most precious herbs, crystals and magical equipment - the rest would go in the communal packs - and (and she smiled at this) a small gold charm against conception on a chain. She doubted she would need it, but her memory of - the incident - forced her to take it out and fasten its clasp round her neck. She tucked it out of sight beneath her tunic, where it felt ice-cold for a moment, before adapting to her body heat.  
  
With a last glance in her mirror, she decided to wear her hood down, and walked out of her door towards the Great Hall, where she would break her fast with the rest of the Fellowship.  
  
_*_  
  
The Great Hall was crowded, but not overly noisesome. AlantiÃ« joined the queue next to a male Elf with the long blonde hair usual to even male Elves. He nodded at her as she arrived.  
  
"Quite a fine day to leave on a quest, do you not think?"  
  
AlantiÃ« was suprised. "I beg your pardon?"  
  
The Elf held out a hand. "I'm Legolas. I assume by your travelling gear that you are the other Elf who will be accompanying the Grey Company?"  
  
AlantiÃ« froze for a moment. She had not touched a man by choice since she had first come to LothlÃ³rien, and certainly not a stranger. However, she could not act like this and keep her true identity a secret. Trying to master her fears, she shook hands with Legolas. "I am. My name is Alandur." Suprisingly, she was not revolted at his touch. Quite the reverse, infact. "Aragorn told you about me?"  
  
"Yes. Anyway, we had better get our food, we're holding the others up."  
  
Together, they picked up chunks of bread topped with butter, and took them outside. They sat on a tuffet of grass to eat, and talked while they were doing so.  
  
"So, Alandur," said Legolas, "Why have you been sent on this quest? How much do you know about it?" He seemed quite friendly, and AlantiÃ« found herself talking to him as if she had known him for a long time.  
  
"Well, I am skilled in herblore, crystallore and magic, and I can use a sword or bow. As for the Quest, I know of its history so far, and I know its aim."  
  
Legolas lowered his voice. "Then you know of Isildur's Bane."  
  
"I know of it," AlantiÃ« said heavily. "I know what it can do to men's hearts,  
  
elven, human or otherwise. I have lived much of my life in the South, where it's Shadow is longest. I know of its evil, and how it and it's wicked Master are carved into our Lore forever."  
  
Legolas was silent. He did not question AlantiÃ«'s past, and she was glad of it. Eventually, he looked at the sun and spoke.  
  
"Well, I think we should make our way to Cerin Amroth. The Grey Company are assembling, and it would be ill-fitting should we be late."  
  
AlantiÃ« nodded. "I will retrieve my baggage from my rooms and meet you there."  
  
  
  
  
  
Author's Note: I'm very sorry about the last scene. I tried to make it as less like a buffet-breakfast as I could! The next chapter may be a long time in coming, since I tend to write large chapters and I have several other stories and ficlets going at once, as well as school etc. I am also working on the scene in 'AnÃ­ron' where AlantiÃ« and Legolas kiss for the first time (since that's the scene I want to write, and I write the chapters in whatever order takes my fancy!). Please review this story and tell me what you think (don't worry if you want to give advice - they don't sound like flames, and they're really constructive), and also whether you would like me to post the kiss scene as a separate story (like I did with 'AnÃ­ron - in the Arms of Another', which is up, and will make up part of this story when I get to that stage), or whether you want me to save it completely until its proper place in 'AnÃ­ron'. In the kiss scene, we'll also find out what AlantiÃ«'s mysterious secrety is, although I guess some of you may already worked out. Thank you so much for the reviews, keep reading and reviewing everyone, I will write some more! 


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